


1940's

by BubblegumCannibal



Category: Deus Ex: Human Revolution
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Past, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 13:35:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1268344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubblegumCannibal/pseuds/BubblegumCannibal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Prompt: Alternate Year/Timeline</p>
            </blockquote>





	1940's

**Author's Note:**

> Characters: Faridah Malik and Adam Jensen  
> Prompt: AU Faridam — 1940s  
> Word count: 394

> _"Where there is love there is life." **~** **Mahatma Gandhi**_

It’s the smile of a dame that always gets me. Greeting the usual deadpan lobby that was Sarif Industries, spotting the receptionist’s smile was nothin’ new. With the lights dim from the thick smoke being aired out from the building due to probably another malfunction downstairs in the lower labs, I huffed. Can’t get a damn moment to myself without someone going and ruining it with something purely idiotic. Then again, it was nothing but another normal day within Sairf Industries… 

“Miss Malik is up in your office, Mister Jensen.”

Hmm… Faridah Malik. A bombshell of a woman, if she could be noted as such. A snazzy hoofer and a sight for sore eyes; the pilot was the perfect piece of silky caramel. I can never see how she could put up with a stiff like me. However, she was my Flygirl. It was worth it. Her tolerance for me was always worth being graced with when not being hassled with other things.

She knew I was no pushover, yet she always tempted and teased me with those gorgeous eyes of her… that beautiful smile too. Sassy broad, she is though. Forever the woman to know how to kick down a hard boiled idiot with the bat of a lash. I’d laugh from this thought. I think that’s why I fell head over heels for her.

Although, making it up to my office, there she stood. Beige-orange trench coat draped over her forearm, hugged up to her bosom as if she were packing up and leaving from having to wait for me to show my mug. How spiffy did she look? Just as beautiful as usual out of her flight suit, as she was in. It was as if the beauty was planning to go out for more than just drinks.

“I heard my Flygirl was up here, something on your mind?”

She gave me a soft scoff of amusement, even that raised goosebumps on the remainder of my organic skin, “Thought you’d like to roll on over to Maggie’s Joint. After the last mission, we both need the taste of forget-me-not.”

I snorted. This lady—an astonishing woman I had been stuck on for some months now flat out asking me for drinks, “If I wasn’t so distracted, I’d believe you were asking me out on a little date.”

“Well?”

“It’s a date.”


End file.
